


Sleep It Off

by twitch



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Back Pain, Childhood Trauma, Comfort Sex, Consensual Somnophilia, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Injuries, PWP without Porn, Somnophilia, maybe a bit of plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-18
Updated: 2019-02-18
Packaged: 2019-10-31 05:24:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17843285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twitch/pseuds/twitch
Summary: Back pain has always been a problem in Hux's life. Medication never helps. Kylo knows the perfect way to help him through it.





	Sleep It Off

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fill for a SKK over at Tumblr. "When Hux's back pain gets bad enough he'll sleep on his side with a pillow between his legs. But he especially likes it when Kylo finds him and helps relieve the stress and tension in his body with a slow fuck."
> 
> A big thank you to VigilanteFlower for beta!

He’s never been a model of physical excellence. For many years he was demeaned for his flaws, by his peers and mentors. His father was the worst of them. Thin as a slip of paper. Rakish. A weed. Weakling. Disgrace. Despite all the mocking words thrown at him he knows he isn’t the worst. His bones are all his own. He doesn’t require any walking aids or assistance in any physical capacity.

Yet, for all of that, some days his past injuries catch up with him. 

The Commandant never spared him a gentle hand. Between him and the cadets at the Academy he has lost track of how many times he found himself in medbay. When his own first aid practices weren’t enough he would go down to the nurses to see what they could do. Bones were re-set. The periods between classes, homework and physical training were spent on bed rest. 

He couldn’t say what the direct cause of his back pain is, but it would rear its head at the worst times. Even now, when he serves as General on the Finalizer. He could count with certainty at least three occasions where he injured his back. There was the time that several older kids pushed him down a flight of stairs. Not only did he hurt his back but he also wound up with a concussion from going headfirst, the back of his head hitting the durasteel hard. 

Now all it takes is a trigger or two and the pain in his lower back flares up. Medication does nothing to relieve the pain, leaving him to fight through the agony for a day or two. In an ideal setting he would sit down, working through reports or delaying appointments until he feels better. It’s as though Snoke knows exactly what is wracking his body. The men and women in High Command accept no excuses, insisting their needs are top priority. He rarely has the chance to sit, spending too much time on his feet. It doesn’t make a difference that he wears special boots to provide better support for his back. 

Other times, it’s just from being overworked, regardless of whether or not he walks from one end of the star destroyer to the other. The stress works itself into his bones, then his muscles, making everything stiff. Deadlines are rarely put off, unless they benefit someone else. 

Being tired or hungry is another issue. The little sleep he gets drains his body further. 

Luckily, he doesn’t have meetings scheduled tonight. The work he could’ve brought back to his quarters are reports that don’t need to be completed or signed off on for another three days. 

He already wears his sleeping clothes when he eats dinner. He takes a half dose of a sleeping aid once he finishes his food and is quick in washing up. The last thing he does before turning the lights off is set his comm to do not disturb. He’s only to be contacted in the event of emergency. Indeed, the half dose is light enough that he would wake up at the first impact should the Finalizer be caught in a crossfire, as unlikely as that is.

By the time his head eases down into his pillow, another pillow between his legs, Hux is already asleep, curling up on his side. 

The only jostling he feels later on, is the temporary movement of the mattress. Nothing to suggest an attack, so his brain, grudgingly waking up for half a second, waits. Nothing moves. Klaxons silent. Relieved and sighing contentedly, he nestles back down.

A warm hand slowly slips under his shirt, calluses dragging over his ribs, rousing him.

A shushing sound tickles his ear, the warmth and white noise convincing him to submit. Kylo’s following words have him turning his head, trying to catch his lips with his own. “Shh, just keep sleeping. Nod if you understand what I’m saying.”

Hux nods. A kiss touches upon the corner of his mouth, trailing lower to jawline and neck. Hux settles his cheek back upon his pillow, letting Kylo have his fill. 

Kylo’s thumb dips from his side, spanning effortlessly across his back to reach the base of his spine, pressing in firmly. Hux hisses at the discomfort, but Kylo continues to knead. “I could sense you all day, the stress, the pain...” Kylo murmurs into his shoulder, mouthing through the thin fabric of his shirt. “Would you like me to help?”

Hux nods silently, knowing that Kylo can feel the contentment sinking into his bones, the unsaid ‘please’ lingering in the air between them. 

“Can I remove the pillow?” Sometimes he wishes he could say yes, but Kylo always insists he stay quiet. This is to help him relax, to get the sleep that he normally goes without. On cue, with another dip of his chin, Kylo eases the pillow out from between his legs. “Relax, I’ve got this.”

Keeping his eyes closed, the smile on his lips falters. He winces as Kylo works his sleep pants down to his thighs. Bedsheets rustle while Kylo shuffles and draws nearer. Kylo doesn’t attempt to remove his shirt, he rarely does, tongue soothing and tracing the tendons of his neck, kissing through the fabric on his shoulders. These are the nights hunger and need are replaced with something gentler. 

A soft snick of sound is loud in the silence. Hux murmurs at the first wet glide of a finger, teasing at his entrance. 

“We’re good?” Hux nods, pushing his hips back, choking on his breath when his lower back spasms. “Gentle, I’ve got this. You take it easy. If anything hurts just shake your head.”

Squeezing his eyes tighter, breathing hard through his nose, he curls his fingers into the sheets. Kylo keeps his movements slow but deliberate. The gradual progression doesn’t feel real, a dream crawling over him in the best way. The finger pushing into him can’t be real, the warmth of a body behind him not there. A pause lets him think that everything has stopped, his imagination flawed. Then the pressure increases by way of a second finger, slick and wide, stretching further. 

Lips on his shoulder, tongue wetting the fabric through to his skin, the smile and shape of his lips, are distinctly Kylo. Sighing his approval, loosening his grip on the sheets to lie fingers flat, he rolls with the gentle press of Kylo’s body and lips. He gives Kylo the active role as he reaches for sleep and relief, from pain and growing want. 

“You look so peaceful when you’re sleeping.” Kylo breathes, panting lightly, breath cooling his shirt. “All that pain fading away the more you relax, the stress melting.”

The anticipation is another matter, pooling at the base of his spine, pain countering yet also intensifying with how he hardens under Kylo’s ministrations, fingers deep enough to stimulate. Gasping, twisting to press his mouth to his pillow, his eyelashes flutter. Pain and want and the urge to pull away rather than sink back flutters through his belly. It travels to his thighs, then his spine, and into his cock. 

Kylo shushes, kisses Hux sweetly across his neck while gently stretching him around his fingers, dipping more lube into his body. “We’re almost there, just relax.” 

Fingers slide out slowly when Kylo rolls in closer, their legs twining together. He feels his cock first press between his cheeks, the head deliberately nudging, then glancing past. Several strokes, sticky and broad, ease the path wider. The last draw back and fingers, newly wet, slide him in, tracing the muscle of his hole while Kylo eases in. 

“Don’t move.” Kylo’s hand grazes over his ribs again, fingers tickling down to the front of his thigh. Holding him still, pushing him into each increment when he needs. Sinking in gradually, Kylo shirks back, a tease that has Hux choking on a laugh. Kylo smiles against his jaw, nuzzling, before reaching bottom. 

Glutes and quads work to make the slow rut of hips, all the effort from Kylo, their legs locked together. Not allowed to reach back, even to stroke Kylo’s hip, Kylo reaches for his hand. He strokes along the back of his hand, the fine bones, calluses rough and making him shudder. It trembles up his arms, leaving goosebumps in its wake, all the way up to where Kylo nips and sucks at his shoulder, tugging the shirt with his teeth.

“This is a good dream, right?” Kylo whispers, grazing the fair hair that shivers upright along his arm. “You feel good, the pain is all but gone.”

He mouths to the open air, lips forming, stretching the unspoken ‘ _please_ ’ to the Force and Kylo’s will.

Hux lowers his arm to the mattress, whimpering. His insides lurch forward when the damp lines on his hand are forgotten, Kylo taking his cock in hand. 

With a shuddering breath he sinks into the full embrace. Whether it’s Kylo or a dreamed up version of him, he seems to be a gentle spirit that bears no resemblance to the merciless killer who wipes out the Resistance and its allies alike. He’s cradled between deft fingers and solid muscle, arm wrapping protectively around him. 

“My perfect dream,” Kylo insists, an edge of possession hardening his quiet tones. Breath and hips quicken, but no less rougher with each roll. Hux gasps soundlessly, wanting to cling to something of the other man, to give a gesture of goodwill. “No, no, this is for you.”

Pleasure erasing the pain that consumed him prior to bed, vanishing from his memory. He shivers, lips draining of any command or plea but still trying. Kylo’s hand speeds up, thumb at the slit, stickier with each pass as he squeezes with each push of hips, taking him from both ends. 

With the fabric of Hux’s shirt bunched up between his teeth, Kylo lets out a muffled cry as he spills deep into him. Seconds later, Hux’s seed crests the horizon of Kylo’s knuckles.

Boneless together, Kylo releases his shirt to nuzzle into his neck. A neat flick of the Force has a damp cloth flipping to land in Kylo’s hand, first wiping his hand clean before cleaning him.

It’s all the effort Kylo makes before a flick of his wrist sends the cloth to the floor. Readjusting, Kylo places his palm against his belly and leans forward to press his head against his shoulder. 

Trying to wiggle his hips forward only results in Kylo grumbling. It peters out into a snore but not before Kylo pats around for the one free hand Hux keeps out from under the pillow. 

They lay, joined from the waist down. 

The filtered air is brisk on his heated skin, and the sheets don’t provide quite enough warmth for his flaccid cock.

“Kylo,” Hux prods.

The mumble into his shoulder and the weight of Kylo’s arm over his side is all the evidence he needs to know Kylo is asleep. In his own drowsiness, and contented lack of pain, Hux decides he can put up with it for one night.


End file.
